Sins of the Fallen
by Lacriyme
Summary: After a severe injury in Ishbal, Anya wakes to find herself promoted to Mustang's secretary and with no memories.  Follow her as she helps Ed and Al search for information... and learn about her own forgotten past.  Rated T for the usual Ed language.
1. Created Human

"How many did you say?"

Another voice, higher in pitch than the first- a female's- answered. "Seven, sir. Seven bullets."

A groan of despair came from the first speaker as he ran his hand through his black hair in frustration. "I can't believe this happened- especially to one of my best lieutenants."

"At least she survived. I can't begin to imagine ho-"

A knock at the door interrupted her. It opened slightly, and one of the many soldiers stationed at the hospital stepped into the room. "Führer Bradley here to see the patient, sir," he said, saluting the both of them.

The woman was the first to speak. "The Führer doesn't _usually_ come to visit injured soldiers, does he?"

"No," he replied, watching the soldier's retreating back. "For some reason, she must be an exception."

The door swung open again, and a second later, the Führer- tall, dark-haired, and with a black patch over his right eye- stepped into the room. "Ah, Colonel Mustang, Lieutenant Hawkeye. How is our patient faring?"

"I'd say quite well, sir, considering her condition," answered Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. "The injuries are healing fine, but she's still in a coma. The doctors believe she may have hit her head, and don't know when she'll wake, if at all. It could be years."

"Good, good," he said breezily. "I'm sure she'll wake before long. I have work that needs to be done, but send someone to see me if there's anything new."

"Yes, sir," said Lieutenant Hawkeye, answering again for the colonel.

The Führer turned to leave, but stopped, his hand resting on the door handle. "Oh, and Colonel Mustang, I want a full report on your portion of the battle by noon tomorrow. Good day to you both."

Once the door had clicked shut behind him, Lieutenant Hawkeye turned to Mustang. "And now, sir?"

Mustang looked over at the still form on the hospital bed, then at his lieutenant. "And now we wait," he said, his voice soft, like a sigh. "Until Führer Bradley gives me other orders. But personally, I don't know what we're waiting for. He seems to be chasing after a hopeless dream..."

**Four years later**

My limbs felt so heavy. I struggled to move them, or at least to open my mouth to call for help, but I couldn't do either. A crushing weight was slowly pressing down on my lungs as the blackness pressed ever further into the deepest recesses of my mind. The silent struggle carried on for several minutes until I thought I could bear it no more.

And then, it was as if I was a puppet and someone had suddenly cut the strings- I was suddenly free of whatever had bound me motionless and mute, free to move as I had once done. My joy was short-lived, however, because before long I found myself in the oppressing shadow of a tall black door. I stared curiously at the abnormality in the otherwise soft white that surrounded me on every side. It was many stories tall, dwarfing me in comparison, and round along the top like a long, stretched out parabola. Except for the odd carvings scratched into the dark wood that I could barely make out, it reminded me of a huge gate reminiscent of those found in castle walls.

A creaking noise sounded upon my ears as the door slowly began to open. As I watched the darkness pouring from the inside continue to grow, I was suddenly filled with an irrational fear of whatever it was that lay beyond. And just like a frightened child, I turned and began to run.

But it was no use. The gatelike door seemed to grow in size no matter how far I ran, no matter how fast- it was always there, looming over me, pouring its black miasma over me like a cloak. Black hands, snaking through the open doors, reaching for me. I made the mistake of looking back, and tripped and fell sprawling on the ground. And then they were upon me.

Clammy fingers gripped at my skin, dragging me backwards through the doors that were wide open now, as if in an eerie, unwelcome greeting. The horrid black things were everywhere, pulling at my hands, my face, my legs, my waist, my hair- there was no escaping them. I was inside now, watching in horror as those dark doors began to close, shutting out whatever white light was left.

And then they stopped. I looked up to see a pair of hands- human, it seemed, not one of the black ones that still held me in their grasp- wrapped around the edge of both doors, preventing them from closing any further. With what seemed like impossible strength, they wrenched both doors wide open.

A dark haired woman stood there; I couldn't see her face. But she held out a hand to me, her voice soft and reassuring as she said "Come with me."

I found that the black hands had released their hold on one my arms, and without a second thought I took her proffered hand. A second, and then I had been freed and the only remainder of what had just occurred was the tall black gatelike door slowly closing behind me.

My curiosity got the best of me as I glanced the woman who had saved me from something that seemed quite terrible (though I had no idea what it might have been). "Who are you?"

"That's not important," she gave as an answer. "It's all been prepared, don't worry."

"What's been prepared? Can't I be on a need-to-know basis or something? I mean, I don't even know where I am!"

"You don't need to know anything," she replied quite unhelpfully just as another figure materialized in this shapeless white landscape. As they walked slowly closer to us, I hoped that perhaps here was someone that might give me some answers. But I wasn't ready for the shock that awaited me as they came to a stop in front of us, smirking at my reaction. I found I was staring at...

Myself.

I was starting to panic now. "Okay, seriously, what the heck is going on? Who is that, and why do they look like me?"

"Because they are." the woman said with a smile that wasn't in the least bit comforting. "At least after right now." She clapped her hands together and placed one on each of our- or should I say _my_?- foreheads. I felt a burning pain on my hip, there was a flash of brilliant blue light, and then I knew I was no longer myself. The feeling of flying through the air as free as before slipped through me, but it was gone just as quickly as it came as I was slammed into a body that both was, and wasn't, my own.


	2. Waking Up

The first thing I noticed was the light. My eyes, still closed, squeezed shut even tighter to try to block it, but it relentlessly snuck under my lids to blind me. Yet in its own way, the light was a relief, after so long in the darkness. I had lost count of just how long I spent huddled within myself, waiting first for my body to heal, and only then allowing my mind to follow. But now I was whole again, and I was ready to break free of the darkness and live again.

Maybe it was just because I was so weak, but it seemed to take an enormous effort to open my eyes. And then once I did, my vision was suddenly flooded with bright white light. I closed my eyes until my lashes nearly touched, allowing my eyes to become accustomed to the kind of light I hadn't seen in what felt like a lifetime before I slowly opened them again.

Everything was a blur at first, but after several moments, I was able to make out the vague shape of a black haired man in a deep blue military uniform sitting on a wooden stool next to the bed I was lying on. When he saw that I was conscious, he seemed to relax in the chair, saying, "Well, it's nice to see you awake." He laughed with a flash of white teeth, making him even more attractive than he had been two seconds ago.

"Where am I?" I asked, my voice rough from lack of use. "What happened?"

"You're at Central, in the hospital," he informed me, and then a frown crossed his face. "You don't remember?"

It was my turn to frown, as I searched my mind for an answer, but I came up with nothing. I shook my head. "I don't remember anything. All I know is my name- Anya."

He sighed. "I suppose that's better than nothing, but I'm just relieved that you're alright. You see, you were in Ishbal, fighting in the war. I was your commanding officer. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time... Seven bullet wounds is no easy thing to recover from. The doctors all believed it would be impossible."

I sat up in surprise. "Seven?" I stretched out my arms and my legs, searching for soreness that should accompany the healing of such an injury. "But I feel fine."

"There was plenty of time to heal. You also laid in a coma for four years."

"Four...?" My head began to spin, not only because I had just woken up. The man, whatever his name was, put his hand on my shoulder and gently helped me lay down again.

"Take it easy now, Anya," he said, but then a mask of seriousness slid onto his face as he stood and slid the stool to the side. "As your commanding officer, I'm telling you to stay here for a while and rest. I'd prefer that to your hurting yourself again because you're not fully recovered."

I nodded, settling my head back against the pillow. "Thank you... for caring. You must be well liked at Central."

He seemed surprised, and his tone echoed the emotion as he replied with a slightly uncertain "Y-you're welcome. I'm only doing my job."

There was a quick knock on the door, and then another soldier entered the room. "Colonel Mustang, sir, the Führer wishes to speak with you."

"I'll be right there. Thank you, Fuery."

I watched the two of them leave, then once the door had clicked shut fell back against the pillow and closed my eyes with a sigh.

Colonel Roy Mustang. I remembered him now. No wonder I'd thought he was so attractive. I surely hadn't been the first one to think that...

Over the course of the next few days, I rested as Colonel Mustang had ordered me to, slowly rebuilding my strength. Several doctors passed in and out of my room, generally to administer various medicines or to see how I was faring, but otherwise I was left alone. That was fine with me. I spent the majority of the time working to recover some of my memories. It was a slow process, but with a lack of anything else to do it was a fair way to occupy myself.

On the morning of the third day after I woke up, I was surprised when a blonde woman, dressed in the same blue uniform as the other soldiers had been with her hair pulled back and a bundle of what seemed like cloth resting in her arms, entered my room. "Morning, Lieutenant Lysacek."

"Lieutenant?" I asked curiously. "Are you talking to me?"  
>"Of course," she said with a smile, setting down the bundle on the table next to me. "I'm sorry; I'd forgotten that you probably don't remember. I'm Riza Hawkeye, a lieutenant under Colonel Mustang as well. Although I suppose you'd be ranked higher than me now."<p>

"Oh, I remember you now, Lieutenant Hawkeye," I said. We'd been friends before I was injured in Ishbal. This was one of the things I had managed to recover, while other memories, like those revolving around my childhood, were vague, and those from the war itself were missing completely.

But something she had said didn't quite make sense, and I voiced the question.

"He didn't tell you? Oh, I swear, the colonel can be so lazy sometimes..." she said, a tone of annoyance that touched on frustration sneaking into her voice. "Once he learned that you'd survive, Colonel Mustang promoted you to his secretary."

"The colonel has a secretary?" I asked in surprise. This wasn't something I remembered.

Lieutenant Hawkeye shrugged. "He does now. Oh, and by the way, I spoke with the doctors and they said you're healed well enough to leave the hospital. I brought your uniform for you as well," she said, unfolding the bundle and handing it to me.

"Thanks!" I said, relieved to be able to leave the boring white rooms of the hospital. I pushed off the thin sheet and quickly changed into the uniform, wincing when the fabric brushed against the skin at the back of my neck. According to the doctors who had tended to me, all seven of the bullet wounds had healed without a single scar (which in itself seemed quite odd) except for a mark at the nape of my neck that they said would probably scar. But the odd thing was, I hadn't been hit anywhere near there, and it seemed to have shown up after I arrived in the hospital. None of the doctors had a feasible explanation for it.

Once I was dressed, the lieutenant stepped behind me and quickly swept my long dark hair into a tight bun just above the mark on my neck.

"I figured you didn't want to cut it," she said when she was done. "Based on a few years back. And besides, now we match," she added with one of those smiles that I remembered was rather rare for her.

Apparently, Lieutenant Hawkeye had been given the day off to take me around Central to stimulate my memory, and for a while had also been assigned as a sort of personal guide to me. And apparently, it had been Colonel Mustang that had insisted on it. Although I found it a bit odd, I was glad of it. Just being in Central, even though I felt a bit like a tourist, was of more use to me than three days spent in a hospital bed.

And I enjoyed it, not just because I was remembering more. Because even though I'd been absent for four years, everyone seemed to remember me and was forward with welcoming me back. If I didn't remember names at first, I at least knew all their faces. By the end of the day, I felt like I had never been in the coma as I laughed and joked with all my old friends.

We all ate together that night. The meal was only interrupted with Colonel Mustang's quick visit, in which he promised me work for the next day that didn't include "partying with busy soldiers", as he so put it. That brought on a round of laughter.

A few minutes after he had left, I noticed that Lieutenant Havoc was looking quite unhappy. He had even let his cigarette go out, a rarity since he nearly always had one in his mouth. I asked what was wrong

.It was Vato Falman that answered for him, in a tone that was parts pity and poorly concealed amusement. "The colonel stole another of Havoc's girlfriends."

The night was suddenly shattered with laughter and sympathy as Havoc made a face at all of us and went back to his dinner.


	3. The Exam

"Well, well, if it isn't my secretary," Colonel Mustang said with a dry smile when I walked into his office the following morning. "Here for likely the most entertaining first day of any secretary. You, my formerly comatose lieutenant, get to witness the alchemy exam."

The Führer 's deep voice rang out through the hall. "We will now commence with the written exam. Begin."

I stood next to the colonel and several other members of the military on a slightly raised platform that curved around Führer Bradley's chair. Behind us on the wall was a long hanging piece of cloth that, like a banner, was embellished was the seal of Central, which was the military's headquarters. And in front of it were rows of tables in descending levels, split by a series of steps in the middle of the room that stretched from the door to the platform. At each say one or two alchemists furiously scribbling away at the exam in front of them.

I knew, as most people in the country of Amestris did, that alchemy was the science of creation and transmutation. The military employed alchemists for their use, and they were called upon to fight in times of war and trouble. For the next two days, promising users of the art would be tested, to see which were suited to become a "dog of the military", as I had heard some call state alchemists. From what Mustang had told me, there were three parts to the alchemy exam: the written test, an interview, and the practical. And that all of the hopeful, determined people working in front of me, only one or two would actually pass all three parts and become a state alchemist.

My eyes fell upon an odd pair sitting in the one of the middle rows. They were brothers, the colonel had told me, one with a golden braid and the other wearing a suit of armor. Edward and Alphonse Elric. Apparently, it had been under his guidance that the two had come to take the alchemy exam. I wondered what was so special about them, why he had taken such an interest in two young boys- the one with the braid couldn't have been more than twelve, whereas all of the others in the room were adults. I made up my mind to ask when the written portion was complete.

Fifty minutes later, the Führer once again spoke. "That's time. Set down your exam, and you may leave. Those of you that passed are expected to arrive for your interview at the scheduled time. Do not be late. Have a good afternoon," he said with a smile as the alchemists began filing out of the room.

Upon returning to his office, Mustang collapsed in the chair behind his desk and rubbed at his forehead in exasperation, which I knew meant he was getting a headache. I decided to make him a cup of tea, hoping that that might help the headache from settling in.

"I never imagined that the younger one would pass too," he sighed as he took the steaming mug from me and took a careful sip.

"You mean Alphonse?" I said in surprise. "Is that a problem, sir?"

He took a gulp of his tea and then set it down on his desk, next to yet another pile of unfinished paperwork. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with. Now if you will excuse me, I must go speak to the boys. I have some paperwork you could busy yourself with while I'm gone."

Once the door had shut behind him, I sighed and sat down at the desk, pulling one of the stacks towards me. The colonel seemed to have grown lazier than I remembered, putting off all his work to the last minute. Perhaps he really did need a secretary after all.

I dropped the pen when there came a knock on the door only a few minutes later. He couldn't be back already, could he?

"Would you like some help?" asked Lieutenant Hawkeye, stepping into the room.

"Um... sure," I said tentatively.

She turned to shut the door, then pulled up a spare chair next to the desk. "Before he appointed you his secretary, I was always stuck doing the colonel's work for him. I know how lazy Mustang can get, and you shouldn't be stuck with all this on your first day."

"Thanks," I said warmly. "I appreciate the help. You can start with this..."

Mustang looked surprised to find Hawkeye in the room when he returned. "Lieutenant? What're you doing here?" he asked, unbuttoning his long black coat and hanging it on a hook beside the door.

"Really, Colonel?" she said, shaking her head in dismay. "Her first day, and you're already loading her down with the work that _you_ should be doing?"

He didn't seem to know what to say in response to that. "Um..." he cleared his throat. "Anyways, Hawkeye, you should be leaving. Lysacek, it's about time for the interviews to begin."

The room was dark. The only light came through a circular window in the ceiling that spilled light onto the Central seal inlaid in the floor. A chair of a polished, golden material sat in the center, balancing on three thin legs. The Führer and his officers were seated at a long table made of dark wood on the far side of the room, opposite the door.

The large number of alchemists I had seen at the written exam yesterday had been greatly diminished. They entered one at a time for the interview, and were asked in turn, for their reasoning in traveling to Central, why they wished to become a state alchemist. Colonel Mustang never had told me why he wanted the Elric brothers to come to Central, and I eagerly waited for their interviews in case I might glean something from them.

I never saw the one in the suit of armor- Alphonse. But then I remembered Mustang's reaction early that day upon finding out that he had passed the written portion, and wondered just what he had told the boy afterwards.

Edward, on the other hand, was one of the last to go. He entered the room cautiously, youthful face glancing around the room, taking it all in.

The silent air in the room was disturbed as Führer Bradley spoke. "Take a seat. Alchemy is the science of balance. If you have the gift and are willing to obey its laws, it will not retreat, and will always offer itself for your use."

Even in the dim light, I could tell that he had swallowed nervously, his gaze flickering from the chair to the table, where all the officers stared back at him impassively.

Bradley spoke again. "Go on, then. State alchemists cannot be afraid."

Edward straightened his shoulders and strode forward to the chair, moving his long red coat out of the way as he sat down. His golden hair gleamed in the light, surrounding his head like a halo.

"Very good," came the voice of approval, and then he continued on to the real question of the interview. "Now, tell me why you want to be a state alchemist."

"Because…." He bit his lip.  
>"I'm waiting."<p>

When he spoke this time, his voice was strong and no longer hesitant, golden eyes looking directly at the Führer. "Because I made a promise, to the only family I've got. I told him I'd become an alchemist in service to the state. Take all the good and bad that comes with it."

Beside me, the colonel had a faint smile on his face. "There we go, Edward," he said, but it was so quietly that I was sure only I had heard. And he probably wanted it to be that way. "That's the way."

The next day came the final part of the exam, and the true test of an alchemist- the practical.

A large, open space just outside of Central had been prepared for the purpose, as it had been in years past. The center was taken up by several things that one might find occurring naturally in a given area on earth- a mountain of red-brown rock that stood taller than the main building of Central, another of nearly the same height, but composed entirely of ice, several groves of trees, and a river that curved between the two mountains. Standing in a row before it were the Führer, several other officers in the same blue uniform, Colonel Mustang, and I.

Out of the original group of aspiring alchemists, only twelve remained. They stood a bit spread out, some talking quietly, and others just silently waiting.

As the Führer stepped forward, all talking immediately died down and the entire group's gaze was focused on him. His voice was warm. "Welcome to the practical skills exam. We provided you with some nice raw materials for your alchemy. You may use them to create whatever you see fit."

And indeed they did. The first alchemist, a middle-aged man, drew a transmutation circle, and then pressed his hands to the center amid a flash of blue light. A tall steel tower erupted from the ground in front of his hands, soaring to the height of the mountains. He stood, but stumbled, putting out his hand against his tower to steady himself.

A gray-haired man standing beside the Führer, whose name I did not know, leaned over and said, in a whisper full of amusement, "Impressive to him, but he used so much energy he can't even stand up!"

A man in a light colored suit, his brown hair hanging loose around his shoulders, brushed past the first alchemist, radiating confidence. "Out of the way! I'm next."

He clapped his hands and felled two trees. Snatching up a bucket of water sitting nearby and tossing it over them, he transformed the damp trees into a huge blimp. Seeming to be made of out pale gray paper, it immediately lifted off the ground, rocking gently back and forth in the light breeze.

"Nicely done," murmured the same man that had spoken before.

The alchemist looked up at the blimp, a satisfied smile at his work slipping onto his thin face. The Führer, too, was nodding.

Suddenly, a small hole appeared in the side of the blimp. It widened as more and more air pushed itself out, and the blimp began to rapidly lose altitude.

"That's not good!" muttered Mustang, pulling on the white gloves that, emblazoned with the mark of his alchemy, amplified his power as the Flame Alchemist.

The blimp slowly tumbled through the sky and landed on top of the steel building the first man had created. He stared up at it in horror, cowering by its base as long cracks appeared in the metal, running quickly down the sides to the ground. And then with a long, low grumble, it began to split, crumbling and plummeting to the ground.

The entire group of prospective alchemists stood motionless, gazing up at the collapsing tower in what seemed to be shock. All but one. Edward ran forward and, without the necessary transmutation circle, transformed the falling pieces into white and red flower petals that gently settled on the ground, the first alchemist, and Edward.

"Alchemy without a circle," Mustang remarked dryly.

The Fuhrer looked up at the falling petals and then over at Ed, whose hands were still pressed against the ground. Even if I hadn't been looking at him, I would've been able to detect the smile in his voice. "I think we've found our alchemist!"


	4. Alchemy's Law

The Führer's voice was pleased. "I think we've found our alchemist! Youngest we've had."

The other officers standing nearby nodded in agreement, but I continued to watch Edward. He was standing now, staring at his white gloved hands in amazement. As if he couldn't believe what he had just done.

After the Führer dismissed the disappointed group, he left hurriedly. Curious, I excused myself as well, slipped out of the testing area, and followed him.

Without looking back and a brisk pace that I had trouble keeping up with, Edward made his way back to Central. He hurried through the main doors and down the tall series of white stone steps at the front of the building, where Alphonse, a rather young girl, and a large dog with fluffy golden fur stood waiting for him. I ducked behind a wide white pillar, making myself unseen but in a location where I could still see what was going on.

As he approached them, the dog leaped up and tried to lick Edward's face. Laughing, he fondly patted the dog's head. "I did it, Al," he said softly, but enough that I could still hear him from a distance. He looked up at his brother, a touch of pride, but something else too, on his face. "I'm a state alchemist now."

"Yay, Ed!" said the little girl, jumping up and down. She seemed to be more excited than Edward himself, who just smiled down at her antics.

"Easy, now, Nina," he said as the end of her long coat edged under her airborne feet and she tripped. He made sure she was steady on her feet before turning back to his brother. "We'll find a way, Al. I can get books from the State Library now, and-"

"Who's that?" Alphonse interrupted, looking over Edward's head in the direction of the Central building.

Edward whirled around, and I quickly moved behind the pillar, but I wasn't fast enough.

"Who are you? Come where I can see you," he demanded, sounding quite forceful for being only twelve.

Sighing, I stepped from behind the pillar and down a few steps, folding my arms across my chest. "Can I help you?"

He saw my face and immediately frowned. "Lieutenant Lysacek, is it? Hey, you're the colonel's assistant, aren't you?" he said accusingly. "Did you follow me?"

Well, if he was going to be like that... "And...?"

"What does _he_ want?" Edward spat. "I took the exam and I passed, alright?"

I was shocked. "You two don't like each other?"

"You got that right," he grumbled, sitting down on the step at his feet.

I took a few more steps down, deciding not to push it. "Look, I didn't come because the colonel told me to. I came because I was curious. If you'd like to know, I was in a coma until a few days ago, so I had no idea..."

"Oh. I suppose I should apologize, then. Mustang and I aren't quite... friendly, I suppose you could say. But he was the one that wanted me to take this damn exam in the first place."

I descended another step. I was only a few above them now, but I didn't think it wise to go any closer. "Edward... What happened to you? And to Alphonse?"

He looked suspiciously over his shoulder, and then over at the girl and the dog. "Nina, I think I saw a garden on our way here. Why don't you go let Alexander run around, and Al and I'll meet you there."

"Okay!" she said, skipping away. "C'mon Alexander, let's go play!"

When she had gone, Edward turned so that he was sitting sideways on the step, one leg underneath him and the other resting on the step below. He looked up at me as he spoke, and I was surprised to find that his voice was sad. "Normally I wouldn't bother to spend my time talking to someone in a position like yours, meaning so close to the colonel, but you're alright. Why do you want to know?"

"I was just curious and, well, since Colonel Mustang wanted you to take the exam, I figured there was something about you two..." I trailed off, hoping that would be enough to prompt him to continue.

He sighed. "'Something about us, eh? Huh, I suppose you could say that..." He shrugged out of his long red coat, tossing it onto the steps beside him. Underneath he wore all black and his sleeveless shirt showcased a definite hint of muscle, but that wasn't what drew my eye. Instead of flesh and blood and bone, his entire right arm was made of metal. Automail.

"Your arm!" I gasped.

Seemingly without thinking, his automail hand clenched and unclenched, without a sound despite the material. "My leg, too," he said, tapping his left knee with the opposite hand.

I didn't even have to ask; he just went on. "Al and I started learning alchemy when we were real young. Mother always encouraged us; I think our studies reminded her of our father. He was one as well, an alchemist.

"I never knew what from, but she sickened and died of some illness. Oh, we were so stupid..." He ran his fingers through several stray pieces of golden hair that had fallen loose from his braid in distress.

I heard several heavy footsteps, and then Alphonse sat down on the steps as well in a creak of metal, continuing for his brother. "There's a reason why human transmutation is outlawed. Ed and I, we tried to bring her back with alchemy. He lost his leg, and I... I lost my body. "

I looked up sharply at this, wondering how...? Hesitantly, he removed the helmet, and my hand flew to my mouth as I saw that it was empty. Drawn on the inside was a transmutation circle in... could that be...? "Blood seal," he said, confirming my suspicions as he set the helmet back in place. "Ed gave up his arm, then, so he could attach my soul to this suit of armor. We went to Winry, a friend of ours, and she was able to get him an automail arm and leg. And that's when-"

"And that's when the colonel showed up," Edward said, not too pleasantly. "On the pretense of a letter we sent to his office asking about our father. He seemed pretty pleased to find us, especially after seeing our attempt at human transmutation. I still don't know if that was such a good idea, but now we have this so called 'privileged access' to the State library, and hopefully we'll be able to find a way to get Al's body back."

"In a hurry, are we?" came a sardonic voice from behind us. We all turned at once to see Colonel Mustang walking down the stairs toward us. I quickly stood up and saluted him, but he waved me away. "You've only just become a state alchemist, Edward."

"And I was almost expecting a congratulations," Edward said, not even bothering to stand but instead lounging back against the white marble steps. "And what brings you out here, _colonel_? Shouldn't you be inside not doing your paperwork as usual?"

"Be nice, Edward," he said a smug grin. "I've just come to deliver your pocketwatch. This is what you wanted, isn't it?" He reached into a pocket and pulled out the silver water, engraved on the front with the Central seal in front of a transmutation circle. Edward snatched, rather than took, it from the colonel's hand.

Mustang turned and headed back up the steps, but then paused, his foot resting on the next step as he turned back, saying, "And I do expect that Führer Bradley will be giving you your state alchemist name tomorrow. Surely after your performance today, it will be something rather impressive..." And then, with a sly grin, "But I hope it's not something too _large_ for someone of your, ah, _stature._"

Edward leapt to his feet. "Who're you calling so short that-"

"Easy, now, Edward," he said, smirking, having clearly gotten the reaction he hoped for. "I was merely informing you of things to come."

"Shut the hell up, Mustang," Edward muttered.

Colonel Mustang waved cheerily. "Have a good day, Edward. Better control that tempter now that you're one of the military's dogs. Lysacek, come with me. There's some things I need you to do."

I glanced back at Edward and Alphonse, and the former stuck his finger down his throat and made a gagging noise. _Thanks_, I mouthed, and then with a slight smile followed Mustang up the remainder of the steps and into the cool air of Central.


End file.
